


Dead, but wanted Alive

by MALLR4TS



Category: Red Dead Online, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Bounty Hunters, Desk Sex, F/M, First Time, M/M, Office Sex, Other, Punishment, Red Dead Online - Freeform, Sheriff Reader, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MALLR4TS/pseuds/MALLR4TS
Summary: You've been under Marshal Davies' wing for a few months now, training to become a Marshal yourself; but after a job gone wrong, your boss decides to punish you in a way that isn't according to the laws procedures.Gender-neutral Reader!
Relationships: Marshal Davies/Reader, Marshal Tom Davies/Reader
Kudos: 19





	Dead, but wanted Alive

**Author's Note:**

> no fucking content for Marshal Davies?? are you KIDDING me?? LOOK AT HIM. here's my contribution x
> 
> Tumblr is @MALLR4TS

Oh, this was definitely your fault, there's no doubt about it. One silly mistake from you, pent up from the pressure of this mission, a literal slip up and a misfire of your gun, and the bounty that was needed **alive** was killed. It's hard to believe you're a Sheriff, and somehow still standing. Normally, life is fine. Normally, you can go about your day and bring in outlaws from all over, posse up with your crew of Deputies and Trainees. But this was different.

Marshal Davies had approached you a few months ago with the promise of climbing up the ranks. He had picked you personally, so impressed with all your work over the last few years, cleaning up your area and even beginning to move onto the surrounding states. "Well, I never doubted you," he would say whenever you submitted a report to say yet another gang or pesky outlaw had been brought to the hand of justice, but sadly, those words didn't fall from his mouth today. 

Instead, all you were met with was a scowl from his remaining eye, and a frown, partially covered by the thick light hair of his moustache. He didn't say **anything** , which made you shake in your custom leather boots, because as you know, when Marshal Davies is furious, he shuts his mouth and lets his thoughts manifest, usually jumping straight to finding the solution on how to fix his problem.

And this time, you're the problem. 

The ride back was silent, ungodly silent, and even your horse began whining from the tension in the air. Usually, whenever the Marshal is around, the two of you natter away for hours. He's a chatty man and once you get him onto a topic he enjoys talking about, he doesn't shut up, even during a fight.

There's even been the odd occasion where the Marshal had given you that look, with a glisten in his eye and a smile that he's clearly trying to hide, almost like a shy schoolgirl, after you've made a particularly flirty comment that's managed to make him blush. Who would have known that a man with such power would blush like a shy lamb whenever you make a bold comment towards him. 

Apart from that one time... You'd helped him clear out a gang up near Butchers Creek, a sickening sight and an even more sickening fight, but both of you managed (along with some help from the Deputies, but they don't matter right now.) Your horse bolted in the gunfire, later showing up back in Van Horn, and you hitched a ride with the Marshal. He was quick to dismount when you both arrived back, only to offer his hand as he helped you down from his Mustang. 

There was a soft smile on his face, followed by a comment that still gives you the chills to this day; "It's always a pleasure working beside you, Sheriff, and even more so _riding_ with you." 

Beautiful. 

But no flirtatious comments were exchanged today, nor regular ones, and now you're back at his office, dumping the outlaws body round the back to be buried later after paperwork is processed. At least the Marshal is holding open the door for you, beckoning you into his office and closing it shut once he's entered. 

He locks the door, followed by shutting the blinds and lighting the few lanterns around his office. It's not too dimly light, just the right brightness that you don't need to squint, but you decide that this is just the right setting for him to finally bash your skull in after today's mistake, only that's far from his plan. 

"Please, take a seat. I need to fill in this paperwork, then we'll... discuss today," Marshal Davies tells you, pointing to the chair on the other side of his desk as he takes his own. 

He lets out a sigh as he finds the documents and gets to work, whilst you attempt to relax in the wooden chair, poorly padded and turning your bum numb as every second passes. The Marshal doesn't look at you once, he hasn't since he scowled at you after you accidentally killed the bounty, and you're uncertain if his lack of glances are a good thing or not. 

You should probably stop watching the clock. Both of your arms are on the chairs armrests, with one raised, so your head can rest in your hand, your eyes feeling heavy from boredom as you watch every second pass. Literally.

The cough Marshal Davies lets out physically makes you jump, and you turn to see him sat there, his arms resting on his desk, and his eye finally on you. He's still frowning. However, there's no funny feeling in your gut, nothing that tells you the Marshal is going to start screaming at you, nor kill you off, and his tone is calm as always as he finally speaks.

"Let's talk about today, shall we?" he asks.

"Alright," you sheepishly reply, turning your full attention to him, but the sound of the ticking click echoes in the back of your mind.

"What happened?" he questions. A simple statement, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't scare you.

"I slipped," you reply, and instantly begin explaining. "The slop we were on... Well, it was muddy. You were there, I saw you sliding about in it also, and I slipped at just the right... I mean, wrong timing and..."

"Managed to pull the trigger, just at the right angle, landing a bullet in our bounties brain," he finishes your sentence off for you.

"Yeah," you say with a nod.

"That isn't what I've written in the report," Marshal Davies replies, and you raise an eyebrow at his statement.

Marshal Davies sighs, his eye glancing down at his hands before looking back up at you. "Due to the angle that the bullet hit his brain, I've written that he took his own life, rather than allowing us to capture him."

"You have?" you question, his words sounding too good to be true.

"I have," the Marshal replies with a nod.

You let out a sigh of relief, melting into your chair as you finally relax, knowing that you're not going to get it in the neck from the higher up's, nor risk your chance at also becoming a state Marshal.

"But that doesn't mean you're off the hook, at least, not with me."

Your eyes go wide at his comment, and your stomach begins to turn at what he has in store for you. "You're going to put me on traffic warden duties, aren't you?" you ask, knowing there's nothing worse than directing horses through a busy town. It's a newbie job that everybody hates, and you haven't seen it in years, thankfully.

Surprisingly, he laughs at your comment whilst softly shaking his head. "I'm not that cruel," he replies, "at least, not when it comes to formal records."

You feel the colour drain from your face at his comment. So, this is going to be cruel, but not recorded? is he going to go against his job? this wouldn't be the first time, far from the first, but you never thought he'd turn a blind eye when it comes to punishments, nor you.

"I'll save you the embarrassment of not reporting your mistake to the higher ups, but that doesn't mean you're saved from the embarrassment that I have planned," your boss explains, and your mind begins to flow with all the embarrassingly cruel punishments he may have planned.

Marshal Davies is the type to order you to do a stupid song and dance, but that's not cruel enough to be a punishment, although it is embarrassing... there's also the thought of things going, well, a way you'd like them to go, and you know the Marshal would definitely enjoy you watching him literally lick the dirt off his shoes whilst apologizing for your mistakes; now that definitely is embarrassing and cruel.

But instead, he's beckoning you over as he shuffles his chair back a few paces, moving his butt forward to the edge of it, his feet firm on the floor. "Wait, take your hat and coat off first," he orders, and points to the clothing peg by his door, as if you've forgotten where it is, "and make sure the door is locked whilst you're over there."

A quick turn of the handle concludes that his office door is definitely locked, and now you're stood between his feet, watching as he reaches his gloved hands out to firmly hold onto you. "Be good, and follow my lead," Marshal Davies orders, and the second he begins to bend you forward, you realize exactly where this is going.

Marshal Davies' lap is thankfully comfortable, and you grip onto the arm of his chair for some support, preventing your body from being uncomfortably hunched, although you're certain your comfort isn't the first thing on his mind right now. Your cheeks begin to flush the second his hand rests on your thigh, his fingers pressed just below the curve of your ass cheek, whilst the other one rests between your shoulder blades; tension is growing thick in the air, almost to the point where you forget how to breathe.

"Now, this isn't exactly how I punish all of my employees, but I've decided it's a suitable punishment for you specifically."

_Oh?  
_

The first slap to your rear takes you by surprise, a yelp escaping your lips as you look over your shoulder to confirm that yes, your boss has just spanked you, and yes, he's definitely getting ready to land another hit. The gloved hand on your shoulder blades moves up to lightly push at your head, forcing you to look forward, before returning to your back just as he spanks you again.

The Marshal's slaps are firm but fair, stinging slightly, but not to the point where you're going to start fighting your way off his lap. Another spank is landed, and you begin to feel the constant sting, your cheeks turning redder by the second.

"Do you think this is a suitable punishment?" Marshal Davies questions, with a happy chirp to his voice as he spanks you once more.

"I do," you reply with a nod, your teeth slightly gritted as the sting begins to worsen.

"I'm not so sure about that," he laughs, and you feel his legs shift beneath you. 

A gap appears below your hips, and you soon realize why as the Marshal reaches round to begin unbuckling your belt; it's an awkward position, but he makes quick work of it. Your pants are lowered to your thighs, followed by your underwear, and you manage to look over your shoulder to see how red your ass has become, almost as red as the vibrant cheeks on your face.

"Quit peeking," Marshal Davies tuts you again, turning your head away once more, following his words up with a slap to the rear.

This time, it burns, and you let out a whimper from the sharp contact. More slaps are landed, one after the other, with barely any time between them for you to at least take a deep breath. Your boss wasn't kidding when he said he wanted this to be an embarrassing punishment; you've always taken a liking to him, hoping you'd end up slowly finding other ways to use his office, but this definitely isn't the situation you've ever had in mind.

"I'm quite enjoying this," Marshal Davies comments with a cheerful tone. Of course, he is... "Do you think you'll be more cautious in the future? Maybe watch where you're treading to prevent another slip up like this from happening?"

"Of course, I will," you reply with a sob.

"Let's hope so," he replies, and lands a slap harsher than the rest. This time, you feel like crying, and fall limp on his lap; Marshal Davies actually seems concerned, and is now gently rubbing over your cheeks, attempting to calm the pain he's inflicted.

He softly caresses you, the fabric of his gloves now feeling so soft against your sensitive skin, and you dread to think how you're going to sit down after this, let alone ride back home. There's silence for a short while, just the Marshal tending to your wounds, kneading each cheek gently, and eventually, he speaks up again.

"If I'll be honest, I've been impressed with your work lately, well, I always am, but more than usual these last few weeks, and I'd be happy to reward you, if you'll let me," your boss tells you, and it's hard to miss the purr to his voice.

You've heard this tone before, through passing flirtatious comments, as you're no stranger to flirting with the Marshal. Only you thought they were just playful comments, little nips at each other, nothing too serious; you assumed Marshal Davies is a man who wouldn't mix his work and social life, well, you did think that, up until now, especially considering he's caressing your naked rear after taking pleasure in spanking you.

You wonder how long he's been waiting for an opportunity like this... maybe this was his plan all along? maybe he was waiting for you to 'slip up' so he had an excuse to come onto you, to make things a little more intense between the two of you.

"And how long have you been waiting to ask that?" you question, and the Marshal chuckles as he replies.

"You want to discuss this now? whilst you're bent over my knee with your rear out?"

"Maybe I do," you reply as you look over your shoulder at him.

Marshal Davies laughs again, caressing your cheeks once more, "yes or no?" he asks with a slight firmness to his voice, his laughter trailing off.

"Yes," you reply with a raised brow.

"Good."

  
Marshal Davies moves his hand off your rear for a brief second, pulling off his glove with his teeth, then throwing it onto his desk - as if he couldn't remove it with his other hand, that remains pressed between your shoulder blades. He slips two fingers into his mouth, dampening them, before making his way to your entrance, gently massaging the tip of his fingers against you for a while.

The hand between your shoulder blades trails up to firmly grip onto your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine; he's keeping you in place, in his place, strung over his lap and letting out a whimper as he slowly pushes a finger in, cooing at you softly.

"That's it," the Marshal sighs, and gives you some time to relax before he begins to work his finger in and out, prepping you slowly. He definitely knows what he's doing, easing you open so another finger can eventually slip in, scissoring his fingers within time, getting you ready for his length.

"You must be eager, you already feel almost ready," Marshal Davies comments, and your reply is cut off when he brushes against that spot inside you. He pleasantly hums at your sounds, tapping against it once more, enjoying the whimpers you're letting out for him - that you're letting out because of him.

After a few more magic touches from his hands, you're ready, and your boss give you an order that you've always dreamed of hearing. "Up. Lean against my desk, if you'd be so kind."

  
How could you ever deny him? You're up on your feet, having a stretch as you stand after being hunched over for so long; the pain to your rear is almost gone, mostly because you were so distracted by the Marshal playing with you instead, although you'll happily receive a spanking if it means being sprawled across his lap, and having him have his way with you.

You find yourself leaning over the edge of his desk, slightly bent forward, your hands firmly on the wood after adjusting your pants to around your thighs. There's a light kick at your ankles, and you look down to see Marshal Davies foot between your legs. You know what he's asking for, so you spread your legs apart, spreading them to the same width as the desk. He pushes lightly at the spot between your shoulder blades, lowering you over his desk until your nose can smell the faint, worn oakwood. You prop yourself up on your elbows and attempt to look over your shoulder at him, but his hand meets your cheek, pushing back at you.

"No peeking," he comments.

The only sound in his office is the clanking of metal as Marshal Davies unfastens his pants, along with the clock faintly ticking in the background. You overhear him let out a soft sigh; one hand is placed on your lower back, keeping you steady, whilst he gives his lengths a few pumps.

Of course, you've thought about this before, about your boss fucking you over his desk, but that has been nothing more than a wild fantasy, something to get you hot and bothered about, so you can tire yourself out before bed. But here you are, sighing as his cock is pressed against your hole, slowly gliding up and down over your entrance. Should you really be surprised that he's a tease?

Finally, the Marshal is pushing into you, letting out the most beautiful moan you've ever heard once he's sheathed inside, holding himself there as you relax around his length. He's just the right size, the exact length and girth that you like, fitting snugly inside you. Marshal Davies' hand moves off his cock, giving your ass another caress before he begins making your cheeks sting again.

The Marshal is slow at first, considering your wellbeing over both of yours and his wants, but soon gives in and begins picking up his pace. His crotch begins to slap against your rear, and the pain from earlier partially begins flowing back. Only this time it's different, this time you have your boss thrusting into you, making your eyes fall shut and your head feel dizzy; the pain is out-weighed by pleasure, and you don't even realize you're moaning until your boss comments on it.

"Keep it down, unless you'd like to wake the whole town up," Marshal Davies comments, his hands coming to rest snugly around your waist.

"S-sorry, Sir," you sigh, chewing at your bottom lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

"Sir? You haven't called me that in years," he replies with a light laugh.

He's not wrong, Marshal Davies dismissed the whole 'authority names' once you two began getting _along_ , and insisted you call him Tom instead; but your mind is foggy, and calling him Sir just feels so _right_ , at least in this circumstance.

"Maybe you'll have to start calling me Sir again, but only during our private encounters. I don't doubt that others will catch on if you begin calling it me in public," Marshal Davies laughs again, and soon returns his focus to fucking you.

You've always been the Marshal's prized pony, his obvious favourite, especially considering he vouched for you when it came to your promotion. The other Sheriffs and Deputies across the states still all call him 'Sir' or 'Marshal,' but you have the privilege of calling him by name, only the one time you're not calling him that is when you're bent over his desk with his cock deep inside you. 

"Touch yourself, that's an order," Marshal Davies says. He allows you to shuffle a pace back, so you can reach between your legs and begin working yourself, feeling your orgasm beginning its approach to peak.

The Marshal lets out a rough grunt as he picks up his pace, your ass still stinging, but _oh god_ , you feel too good to be focusing on that pain right now; you'll worry about it later, later being when you have to ride home after this. The hands on your waist are moved, one gripping the back of your shirt and dragging you upright; Marshal Davies manhandles you, holding you firmly against his chest as he peeks his head forward, speaking directly into your ear in a hushed, deep tone, that makes your body tingle.

"You don't plan on messing things up again, just so you'll receive this punishment, do you?" he questions.

"Course not," you manage to stutter out a reply.

"And you are sorry for putting our jobs on the line, aren't you? like I said, that bounty was wanted alive."

"I am."

"Say it then, say you're sorry, or am I going to have to pull you over my lap again?"

Refusing your apology sounds like a win right now, just like purposely messing up your job does, but maybe he'll reward you in the future instead?

"I-I'm sorry, Sir, for fuckin' up our mission," you whimper your reply, and let out a sudden moan as he slams into you.

"Good," is all Marshal Davies replies, and pushes you back down against his desk, his hands returning to your waist.

  
The Marshal hits peak soon after, ploughing his cock as deep as you can take him, and spilling his load inside you. The sounds he makes are more than enough to tip you over the edge, and you turn into a babbling mess on his desk as your orgasm hits. Marshal Davies hunches over you for a while, panting softly, and slowly stands upright, slicking his hair back into place before pulling out of you.

He doesn't say anything, he just tucks himself away and takes a seat back down at his desk, pulling his glove back on and ordering you to clean up your mess before you leave. You do so after you've cleaned yourself up, followed by putting your hat and coat on.

Just as you're about to leave, your boss speaks up again. "Good luck with the ride home," Marshal Davies says with a laugh, and you roll your eyes sarcastically at him, saying your goodbyes and heading home for the night.

You need more than luck, your ass instantly burning the second you're sat in the saddle. This is going to be a long ride home...


End file.
